


Empty

by autumnwritesoccasionally



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Jax Teller Being an Asshole, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26602648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnwritesoccasionally/pseuds/autumnwritesoccasionally
Summary: You’re not meaning to ignore him or punish him with your silence, you just have no words to give.You feel empty.
Relationships: Jax Teller/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	Empty

You unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car, making your way to the house in silence. Gemma unlocks the front door and you walk by her as if you’re a ghost, just floating inside. 

“Go lay down, baby. I’ll get some tea started for you.” Gemma squeezes your hand before heading into the kitchen. You look around the living room, trying to spot differences in the space since you were there last. But it’s exactly the same. The clutter on the coffee table, the throw pillows smushed in the same position on the couch. It’s like nothing happened. 

“It’s cleaned up in there sweetheart.” Gemma’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You don’t turn to look at her though. 

“Hmm?”

“You don’t need to worry about the…I had the girls come by this morning and take care of it.”

At her hesitation, you turn to meet her eyes. “You can say it Gemma. The blood. The blood is cleaned up.” The fire that’s usually behind your eyes is dulled.

“Oh, baby, I–”

“Have you heard from him?” Your voice is flat. Emotionless. You’re not in the mood for Gemma’s coddling bullshit right now. Especially when it’s for her son.

“He’s getting here as fast as he can. Sweetheart, he didn’t mean–”

“Didn’t mean to what, Gemma? Let _club shit_ come first? Again?” Gemma hesitates slightly at the bite in your tone. “He didn’t miss date night, Gem. I woke up in the middle of the night in a pool of blood.” Your throat is thick and your eyes are starting to water. “I lost our baby and he wasn’t there. Period.”

“I get it, alright? He fucked up. But Jax will make it right.”

Gemma never did know when to quit. You take a deep breath, not wanting to break down in front of the biker queen.

“Thank you for everything Gemma, but I think you should go. I just…I need to be alone.”

You don’t wait for her to answer as you make your way to the bedroom. 

––––––––––––––––––––––

You wake up slowly, feeling heat radiating from behind you. Turning to lay on your back, your eyes meet Jax’s. He shakes his head, tears pooling in his eyes.

“Babe…” he whispers, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

His words flow through you, like a light breeze grazing on your skin, but they don’t penetrate. They don’t sink into you, you barely feel them at all. You look up at the ceiling. You’re not meaning to ignore him or punish him with your silence, you just have no words to give. You feel empty.

You are empty. There is no life inside of you anymore. Jax doesn’t say anything else right away. You know the look he’s giving you. You know he’s hurting too. Not only for the loss you both now share, but for the guilt of you experiencing it alone.

“What can I do? Please tell me how I can help you.” His voice is thick. Desperate. 

“ _You can’t._ ” You speak the words so softly you’re not even sure if you just imagined you said them.

“Even if you had been here, you couldn’t have helped much.” You can’t tear your eyes off the ceiling. You watch the fan, mesmerized by the movement. “But you still would’ve been here. That’s all I needed. And once again–”

A small sob escapes and you try to swallow it down.

“the _club_ was more important.” Tears start to run down the sides of your face but you make no move to wipe them away.

“More important than me. More important than us.” You unconsciously put your hand on your stomach. 

“Y/N…” Jax pleads. He puts his hand over yours, squeezing slightly.

“Please.” You speak out instinctually as soon as his skin touches yours. “Just don’t—don’t touch me.” You turn, effectively moving Jax’s hand off of you. You get out of bed and go straight to the bathroom, locking the door behind you. Leaning back against the door, you slide down till you’re sitting on the floor with your knees tucked up to your chest. 

It’s not long before you hear movement in the bedroom. 

“Please don’t shut me out, Y/N.” You can tell Jax is pressed up against the door. You’ve never heard him sound so heartbroken. So…devastated. 

A part of you wants to answer him. To get up off the floor, open the door, and throw yourself into his arms. Let him help you. Heal you. 

But you know you can’t. You can’t be healed. Especially by him. The emptiness you feel–the emptiness that you _are_ –isn’t allowing you to move a muscle. 

So you don’t answer Jax. You do nothing.


End file.
